


In Light of Things

by InnerSpectrum



Series: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29313855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: A major power outage strikes half of London, but it sheds light on other things...
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138172
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51
Collections: February 2021 Johnlock prompt challenge from ohlooktheresabee





	In Light of Things

**Author's Note:**

> For the February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge from ohlooktheresabee. Prompt: Power Outage

London was going through a heat wave of epic proportions. It was now the sixth day in a row of over 34 degrees Celsius. The city was roasting and the thought of being among the mass sweltering bodies of the tube filled John with dread, but it was the fastest way home.

Or at least it would have been if half of London had not experienced a power outage not even ten minutes after he boarded the train.

Night had nearly fallen by the time John reached the block. He had never been so happy to see the familiar black door of 221b. The usual traffic of the semi busy street had died down in everyone’s quest to rush for home before dark.

“John! Thank goodness you’ve made it home!” Mrs. Hudson greeted him at the door. She assured him she was fine and was headed over to Mrs. Turner’s next door to keep the woman company. “She’s been watching too many of those scary movies at the cinema. I tell her they’re no good, but does she listen? No. Now she’s imagining all manners of horrors and something about purging! Oh, look at me prattling on and you’re about to fall on your face! Go ahead up dear. Sherlock only woke up when things got quiet. He’s been in something of a strop, running in and out. Wouldn’t let me up there. Good luck!”

John inwardly groaned as he climbed the stairs.

He loved the man, even if the man himself did not know it. John’s mind immediately went to the gutter and thought about things he could do in the dark with the genius’ tall body. John immediately cut those thoughts short.

It has been months since John admitted to himself that he was in love with the World’s Only Consulting Detective, Sherlock Holmes, otherwise known as his flatmate. It has been months since the most observant man in the world, except for things that involve the heart, has not noticed. The man was in turns brilliant and a bit of a raving idiot; an utter cock who cared for the underdog, fastidious with his own grooming, yet just shy of slovenly with everything else, the epitome of lazy when he chooses to be, yet will tirelessly chase a clue to solve a case or save a life. In short, the most physically beautiful, mentally captivating and emotionally frustrating person John has ever met. Having Sherlock in his life was everything, even if only as a friend. He would not risk it, and so loved the man in silence.

Still, he was not in the mood to listen to Sherlock grouse over whatever godforsaken body part, that should not be in their fridge in the first place, will spoil and ruin the results of whatever inane experiment he had on. John was thirsty and exhausted. All he wanted was a drink of water, a shower and some rest. He mentally prepared himself for what he just knew was going to be a long dark evening with the idiot genius in a strop.

He took a breath and opened the door.

“Oh…!”

The sitting room had lit candles all about. Some were beeswax, some were regular candles, others were battery operated, with two at the mantle that changed colors. All lit the room with a soft glow. When his stomach rumbled, he then noted the wonderful aroma of Indian takeaway that also wafted in the air.

“Outside of the obvious, are you alright?”

John looked at Sherlock and swallowed; his throat suddenly desert dry.

Sherlock almost never wore ties; leaving the top two buttons of his expensive shirts open, showing off an expanse of his long neck. As always John forced his eyes not to fixate on the three moles on the left side of Sherlock’s neck that reminded him of the Orion constellation. Though Sherlock usually wore an undershirt under his dress shirts, today he did not, and an extra button was open on the aubergine shirt. John was treated to a rare exposure of Sherlock’s pectorals. His pale complexion almost otherworldly in the candlelight. 

Some part of John vaguely noted Sherlock’s slightly damp hair from having recently showered and that he also wore black dress trousers and was barefoot. He forced himself to look up into the pale concerned eyes of the man in front of him who held out a glass of cool water in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other.

John’s exhaustion vanished.

“Not that I am _not_ appreciative… But what is all this?” John happily took the glass of water from Sherlock and downed it.

“More…?” Sherlock took the empty glass and offered the scotch, “…Or?”

“More first please,” John indicated the water glass, then the wine glass. “I’ll _or_ in a moment.”

Sherlock placed the scotch glass on the side table near John’s chair by the fireplace and headed for the kitchen. “Naturally, Mycroft is at his office, which of course has its own power generators, so he’s not affected. You cannot make or receive calls, but your mobile’s GPS is still functioning. He was able to find you once you were above ground and let me know when you made it out of the Tube. Once I knew where you were, I knew you’d walk home. I know you’re exhausted. You don’t have to do anything now but eat and rest.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Sherlock Holmes?” John quipped, taking the refilled water glass. He is genuinely touched, yet completely surprised by the man who can often make being totally oblivious to the things he does not care about around him into an art form.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose slightly as he took the messenger bag John forgot he still held and placed it on the chair by the door, “And maybe shower?”

“Ah there he is...” John gave a short laugh, “Point taken. Give me a few.”

John could not help his smile as he ran up the tealight candle lit stairs. A high-powered torch gave just enough light for him to find pyjamas bottoms and a sleeveless tee-shirt. Though there was a slight breeze now that night had fallen, it remained too warm for anything else, as he headed back down to shower.

Despite the different setting the dinner was otherwise normal. They chatted about their day. John gave Sherlock an insight to a case the genius had not thought considered. Then regaled John with his latest solved case and Anderson insult. Sounds of a slightly quieter London, the refrigerator and the music of a classical music station from a battery-operated transistor radio that John remembered existed, also accompanied their meal. 

The dishes are set to soak until tomorrow when there would be better light to see and went into the sitting room. A definite breeze was coming in more through the window by the sofa, so they sat there with the last of the wine; their feet up on the coffee table.

“I’m still waiting…” John playfully shoved at Sherlock’s leg with his foot.

“For…?” Sherlock drawled. Eyes closed as he settled down in the cushions.

“I’m not stupid you know…”

“Where do you get such ideas?”

“Prat!” John chuckled, “You never answered the question. A few extra torches so we don’t kill ourselves stumbling around in the dark is one thing, but this…” John swept his hand around in indication of the still candlelit room “…is extra.”

“Oh?” Sherlock said innocently as he opened an eye as if not having noticed his handiwork before.

John was not falling for it.

John said nothing as he stood, walked to the running refrigerator and opened the door. The light did not turn as expected. He then opened the freezer section and that light did turn on.

Sherlock opened his other eye and slowly sat up.

John barely suppressed his smile as he reopened the refrigerator, reached in and screwed the bulb in fully giving it light.

“I remembered we benefit from Speedy’s generator downstairs in an emergency. It’s not enough to partially run the restaurant and our flat, not if we need it to last several days, but it can let us run essentials like the fridge and our devices until the power is back on.”

He saw the chagrin on Sherlock’s face, who watched as John took his phone from his pyjamas pocket and crossed the room. He walked to the charger cords on the desk and plugged in his mobile. He checked that it was in fact charging before he placed it down. He then picked up Sherlock’s phone and silently pointed to the lit green dot, indicative of a fully charged mobile while still plugged-up. John unplugged Sherlock’s phone and the indicator went out. He put the phone down, crossed his arms and waited.

“Always something!” Sherlock huffed, annoyed with himself, then looked to John. “A bit not good?”

Rolled his eyes, “It’s perfect and you bloody well know it. As perfect as what you’re wearing now which is not what you had on when we left this morning. So, answer the question, Sherlock. Why?”

“So far, so good. Why do you think, John?” Sherlock asked softly and put his feet on the floor.

Sherlock wore pyjamas and t-shirts regularly around the flat, seeing that, especially on a hot day would not have noticed. John knew Sherlock had showered, not long before he arrived home. Yet instead of changing into pyjamas and a tee to be more comfortable as John had; Sherlock changed into the aubergine shirt and black trousers. I was the shirt John loved best on Sherlock and somehow the detective had deduced it. Which meant he also deduced which trousers John liked him in and he had both on even in this heat 

“You dressed for me…?” John gasped softly and looked around as it started to come together. He realized Sherlock had been wearing several of the things he liked the genius in recently, “Oh bloody fuck! You’ve been seducing me in your own way for several weeks now, haven’t you?”

“Yes…” Sherlock admitted sheepishly, "When the power went out I looked at the time and I... I panicked knowing you were stuck down there. It was not logical, I should have known better. I DO know better, but I couldn't seem to calm. I had to know you were alright. Desperate, I called Mycroft demanding he find you. And he did. But he would not tell me until I admitted to him that this, that what I felt truly for you. He already deduced it, of course. It was me who had to finally be open about it. I decided then, if could admit it to him, I certainly should be able to tell you that what I feel for you is not... platonic. "

John blinked at that and blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“But after Angelo’s that night I thought…”

“That I was married to my work? I was. In the same way you were not interested...?” Sherlock teasingly prompted.

John gave an embarrassed little laugh, “I had thought about it, about you... us… again after our little jaunt round town chasing the cabbie that night. We were in the hall laughing and the moment seemed…right…somehow…to try to clarify that I was interested in spite of what I had said at Angelo’s.” John sobered as the memories took him, “…but then _Lestrade_ happened and the _cabbie_ happened… And then _life_ …happened. I convinced myself I had read it wrong. It was easier to stick with the _Not Gay(!)_ established and I just let it all go. Until I couldn’t…”

“You hadn’t…” Sherlock gracefully rose and approached him.

“What?”

“You hadn’t read it wrong, John.” Sherlock took John’s hand in his, “We were leant against the wall downstairs laughing at our own ridiculousness. When you answered the door and received your forgotten cane from Angelo… The surprise and look of wonder in your face and you… looked over to me easily accepting it where others would have become indignant… I somehow knew then that you were different, that unlike everyone else, you _understood_. I wanted to kiss you then. It is why I was so quick to yell for Mrs. Hudson. I wanted you in Baker Street. I wanted you to work with me. I realize now that though even I didn’t quite understand it myself then, I knew I wanted _you_ … But as you said… and _life_ …happened… And being _married to my work_ was easier. Until it wasn’t…”

John stared up into Sherlock’s eyes as the genius himself stared at the hands he tenderly held in the wonder of finally being able to do so.

“In light of things it seems we both would like to re do that moment then?” John spoke softly as he also watched the play of their fingers together.

The enormity of what is being confessed sinks in for both.

“In light of things…so, it seems…” Sherlock concurred as all the things that had kept them apart dissolved and he stepped closer, “What do we d…”

John answered the not quite asked question with a kiss.

They both jumped apart at the contact as their world suddenly filled with light and sound.

Their section of London had power again and all that came with it.

After embarrassed giggles at their reaction, by unspoken agreement they silence their respective mobiles, then went around and turned off every single light in the flat.

The sitting room was once again awash candlelight only when they returned to where they had stood.

And when their lips met again, this time life let it happen, at last.


End file.
